Well, hello there! I hope you enjoy reading. Every chapter would consist of four weeks of pregnancy; each chapter would be at the very least 200 words and with a max of 300. Oh and if you did enjoyed it review please! I'll love to hear your responses.

Disclaimer: No infringement is intended. I don't own anything. All characters are property of Akira Toriyama.

Chapter 1: First month.

Week 1

Complicated

"Did you do something?"

"Do what, idiot?"

Goku shrugs, all gracefulness and oaf, and scratches the back of his head. They're hovering mid-air, and Vegeta's fists are clench, ready to snap the perplexed expression out of him.

"I dunno, Bulma seems…weird."

Vegeta snorts, his legs swings to the right, he goes for an upper cut but the fool anticipates and retreats back. "That's a constant on her, Kakarot. I don't see any real issue."

"Then why did she yelled so much?"

"Specify yourself, fool. She's always yelling."

"….when I came by?"

One regal shrug and another swing is his answer.

Goku nods and lifts is forearm as Vegeta's knees comes dangerously close to his face. "Okay. Just thought she was sick."

"Sick?" a snort. "More like hormonal."

Goku propels himself and launches to his right, but Vegeta quickly disappears and re-appears behind him and so he spins back and they lean, trying to gain up. Goku laughs merrily. "Hey! Chi-chi used to say that all the time with Gohan. Well, when she was…" he gestures his stomach.

"Your harpy…" the retort dies on his lips. "Wait, what?"

"Is vomit hormonal too?"

Week 2

Code

After he comes back he does not corner her. Royalty doesn't wait. Instead, he locks himself up, ignoring his son's and Kakarot's spawn incessant laughter, and obliterates more than a dozen of droids, demolishes the vexing control panel after it began beeping ominously and may or may not have done a hole proportional size on the roof when Goten came to ask him when would the woman come.

He scoffs angrily, muttering to himself and goes to take a damn bath.

When she finally arrives, all yawns and heavy-lidded eyes, he does not demand or question. He simply pads barefoot to the kitchen, grabs her things, deposits them on his son's outstretched hands, ignores his outrage, and guides her by the elbow to their room.

"Big day. Lots of paperwork to fulfill. Bitches to cut loose." A sigh. "All normal. And you, how was your day?"

"Fine."

She breathes a laugh, rolls on her side, and comes face to face with him.

"…Vegeta?"

"Hn."

"I think…"

"I know."

She blinks. "Really?"

"Really."

"Damn."

"Damn?"

"Yes, damn, I wanted to see your face!"

Vegeta rolls away. "Strange female."

"So…you okay with it?"

A milliard of answers race by.

"Hn."

"Okay." She snuggles closer. "Okay."

He is not okay.

Week 3

Flutter

Once again he remembers why he did almost eradicate the human race. Their stupidity. He halts his snapping only because the nuisance of a doctor Bulma brought down with them to the Medical Bay of Capsule Corporation is on the verge of a panic attack after his last demand to quicken up. The woman is inclined on a metallic bench, a blue goo-like mass of sorts spread on her abdomen and under the fluorescent she looks paler and feebler. And it doesn't suit her.

And he doesn't like the memories that resurge of another life with another sky above his head with thinned curled lips and sapphire eyes gazing at him, so he looks away.

"Human," he snarls. One step forward. "I swear if you don't hurry up—"

"Oh for the love of Kami, calm down Vegeta. It's almost done, stop whining."

He flushes. "How dare you. Saiyan-jin princes don't 'whine'—"

The insufferable woman smirks. "Well, there's always a first time—"

The doctor shifts from foot to foot. "Um…"

"That's it, vexing woman! I'm leaving! Dammit, to hell with this—"

Then, he stops, his ears perk up and his chest tightens. In the other side of the room, the woman shrieks.

"It's a heartbeat!" she gushes.

A heartbeat.

A life.

Another responsibility.

Another taint.

More weakness.

Vegeta then looks up and their eyes link—liquid-blue and bottomless brown and she smiles so brightly—and he feels his stomach rolling and lurching.

He's yet to decide if it's an unpleasant or pleasant feeling.

Week 4

Stranded

Crisp and cool air wipes his face. A myriad of flickering white stars glimmer on the sky, the night light offer by the newly resurrected moon is filling his senses and expanding them. But he ignores it all and focuses on the heavy and coarse feeling weighting down on his chest.

Another heir for our great race, father.

The grass under him feels wet—and real and solid. His eyes glazed over and he chooses to set free some of the chained memories—and Vegeta tries to remember his father's face in something akin to approval. His eyes slid shut, he tilts his head to the left and breaths out when he founds more than one.

Almost forgotten, but never discarded.

I'm stranded.

Or perhaps not. If the key ring on his palm is any indication is that he's indeed not stranded. He's free—free enough to leave in this very instant, to seize his ship and never look back—and he doesn't know why the very idea sickens him. Calculations of the closest habitable systems rolled down his mind even as he realizes this and he's suddenly aware of how easily escaping truly is.

Then, abruptly, a buzzing sound disrupts the soothing nature around him and he curses foul profanity when he remembers it's the annoying human communication device the woman gave him.

He fishes it out, flicks the screen with his thumb…and he blinks at the small screen.

Hey, guess what? I made dinner. Well mom did it. Anyway, aren't you coming back? Don't leave me hanging here, buddy.

He sighs.

Perhaps he no longer has a race to live by. But maybe, just maybe he could try. If not for him then in the name of the blood of his people for-the same blood that's rushing through the child-his child.

Later when he's sitting at the head of the table, fork in hand and mid-bite hovering over his mouth he would curse and bless the same soul when the woman leans in to his ear during dinner and whispers:

"I knew you'll come back," she winks. "Food is the conqueror in all the galaxies and beyond. Don't you think, sweetheart? Besides, how can you resist me?" She bits her bottom lip and drops back to her chair. All smug smiles and glimmering orbs.

He groans.

"Oh don't be such an ass, you know it."

Perhaps.

And everything else fade away.

For now.

Review, please? Oh and feel free to drop prompts that you'll like to see on the following chapters. I'm open to ideas!